


For God and Country

by islandgirl



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2045508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl/pseuds/islandgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s got a bullet hole in his shoulder the size of a quarter and more cuts and bruises scattered over his body than there are hours in a day that all attest to where he has been.  And for the last eighteen months, he’s had a faded picture in place of a family to guide him back home again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For God and Country

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the H50 Reverse Bang on LJ, inspired by the amazing artwork by ncisvu-lj. You can find a link to the artwork at the bottom of the fic.

 

 

He’s sweaty, constricted, and starting to get anxious in the cramped space.  He keeps his eyes closed and takes a deep breath of the stale, recycled air.  _Relax_ , he tells himself.  It works for a few seconds before his nerves get the best of him and his left knee starts up a fast paced bounce.  He consciously wills it to settle down and it slows its pace for a few seconds before ramping up once again.  His brain is buzzing, still in combat mode and on high alert.

 

The person behind him coughs and bumps the back of his seat.  Steve’s eyes snap open, body jolting as he looks around. The two people next to him startle and turn to stare at him.  He manages to drop some of the tension from his muscles and give them a shaky, apologetic smile. The man on the end doesn’t respond, just turns back to his newspaper.  The woman sitting next to him, though, gives him a warm smile and holds his gaze for a moment before she turns back to her book.

 

Outside the small airplane window, there is nothing to see but blue sky and an even bluer ocean. He watches the white caps of waves shifting far below them.  It’s soothing and he can feel himself slowing down and breathing to the rhythm. If he concentrates hard enough, Steve can almost hear the gentle roar of the waves as they rush to shore, crashing into the sand. He keeps his gaze pinned on the water until they pass through a bank of clouds and the scene is whited out.  With the view gone, he finds his leg bouncing again.

 

Frustrated with himself and his anxiousness, Steve unbuckles his seatbelt and unzips the bag at his feet.  He pulls out a well-worn, dog-eared book and smiles at the picture taped to the inside cover. Grace and Danny. The picture is as worn and creased as the book, but the tape has protected it from worse damage. He runs his finger over the image and feels a smile curving his lips as he remembers that day.

 

He and Danny had only been dating a few weeks when Steve had proposed the idea of bringing Grace along with them.  Grace had been ecstatic. They’d spent the entire day at the zoo, Grace skipping between them from animal to animal.  By mid afternoon, Grace was starting to get tired so they had taken a break with a picnic lunch in the park. Grace had climbed into Danny’s lap in a successful attempt to steal his last bite of cookie and Steve had laughed until his sides ached. Grace had smiled triumphantly and Danny had smirked behind her head.  Steve, still recovering from his fit of laughter, had snapped the picture. It was still one of his favorite pictures of them five years later. 

 

“Is that your family?”

 

Steve jerks his head up and looks at the older woman sitting next to him.  She’s got a warm smile on her face as she gazes down at the picture in Steve’s book then glances up at him.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers quietly, finger stroking over their faces again.

 

“You have a beautiful family,” she assures, reaching out to pat his arm in the confined space. “Are you going home to see them?”

 

Steve feels a flutter of excitement in his chest as he nods.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Has it been a while since you’ve been home?”

 

“Eighteen months,” Steve gives her a sad smile.  “It’s been a long time.”

 

She nods, face softening in compassion.  “Well, it looks like you won’t have to wait much longer.”  She points to the tiny window.

 

Outside, rising out of the brilliant blue ocean, Steve can make out the shape of Oahu. A smile spreads across his face; it grows larger with each passing moment.  _Almost there_ , he thinks to himself, _almost home_.

 

He’s got a bullet hole in his shoulder the size of a quarter and more cuts and bruises scattered over his body than there are hours in a day that all attest to where he has been. And for the last eighteen months, he’s had a faded picture in place of a family to guide him home.

 

As the plane begins it’s landing, Steve slips the novel back into the backpack between his feet. He drums his fingers impatiently as they taxi to the terminal and tries to not jump out of his seat the moment the plane doors open.  Instead, he waits and let’s others go ahead of him.  He’s waited eighteen months to come home; he’s spanned most of the globe in three days, bouncing from country to country and airport to airport, all to get to this moment.  Pushing his way off the plane isn’t going to make him get home any faster.

 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he makes his way through the terminal and turns it on. His fingers itch to dial that familiar number, to hear Danny or Grace’s voice on the other end of the line. Instead, he checks the time then puts it away before temptation can get the better of him and ruin his plans. He hitches the backpack up on his shoulder and slips easily through the crowds in the airport.

 

He mounts the escalator down with a group and watches with a faint smile on his face as cameras and phones are whipped out to take a picture of the famous “Aloha” sign. An idea dances in his head and Steve too snaps a picture at the very last second before passing under it, down to the baggage claim.  He thinks of sending it to Danny and Grace with no caption and counting the seconds before his phone started to ring like crazy.  As fun as the prospect is, he dismisses the idea instantly. Since he found out about his homecoming, there had been one thing Steve had settled on; he was going to surprise Danny and Grace.

 

As he’d travelled across countries and time zones, as he’d waited in airports and sat on trains and watched the hours tick by, he’d thought of all the ways he could surprise them.  Showing up at Grace’s school as if he was just there to pick her up for a dentist appointment like any other day, or standing in the back of the crowd at her softball game and cheering loudly, waiting at home plate for her when she scored a home run. He thought about showing up at the precinct in normal clothes, strutting in like he owned the place once again and taking his place next to Danny at the computer table.  He imagined lounging on the couch with dinner in the oven waiting for both of them when they got home.  There were so many ways he could surprise them, but now that his feet were on the ground, the only thing he wants is to have them wrapped in his arms.

 

As he waited for the luggage to start circulating, Steve glanced around at the happy reunions and felt his good mood slip.  For the briefest of moments, he wishes he’d told Danny and Grace he was coming home, he wishes they were waiting for him down here amongst the masses of people and baggage, Grace ready to launch her small frame at him the moment he stepped into view and Danny bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting until Steve was within arms’ reach to pull him close.  He shakes off the feeling and the sullen mood.  Another hour or so and he’ll be with them once again.  He’s waited this long, sixty minutes is nothing.

 

As soon as his bag is in sight, Steve gently nudges his way through the crowd and snags it quickly before it can disappear for another round.  He slings his backpack and duffle on his good shoulder and pushes his way outside where he’s greeted with the first real breath of fresh air he’s had in days.  He drinks it in; the heat of early evening, the fresh air, the faint smell of salt on the breeze. It feels amazing; it feels like home.

 

The sound of cars driving by breaks Steve out of his reverie.  He opens his eyes and searches for the nearest taxi. He waves one down that slows to a stop a few feet from his.  As his hand reaches for the door handle, another hand gets there a beat before him. The man stops and looks up, then backs away apologetically, nodding at Steve, not missing a beat in the conversation he’s having on his cell.  Steve gives him a grateful smile as he drops his bags in the back of the taxi and all but collapses on the seat.

 

“Where to, sailor?”

 

Steve jerks his eyes up to see two eyes watching him in rearview mirror.  He nods and smiles.

 

“2727 Pi’ikoi Street.”

 

Blissfully, the ride is mostly quiet.  The driver makes a few off-handed comments, mostly about things they pass or things on the barely audible radio.  He doesn’t try to make small talk, for which Steve is eternally grateful.  He spends the ride staring out the window and thinking about where Danny and Grace are at the moment.  One glance at his watch and he realizes he’s still on... well he’s not on Pacific Time that’s for sure.  The clock on the cab radio shows it’s just after five o’clock on-

 

“What day is it?” Steve asks, looking up when the silence grows tense.  The cab driver looks over his shoulder at Steve for a moment before he looks back to the road, uncomfortable.  Steve gives his best smile as he tries again. “Crossed so many time zones in the last few days, I lost track.  I can’t remember if I’m a day ahead or a day behind anymore.”  He offers a slightly embarrassed chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck.

 

The driver visible relaxes, pausing only a moment longer before he answers.  “Friday; start of the weekend, brah.”

 

Right, Friday. Steve murmurs a thank you as he turns back to the window.  Friday, just after five o’clock means Danny and Grace are home, as long as the team isn’t on a case. Even still, he knows Danny makes his best effort to be home with Grace, case or not.  That’s why Chin took over as leader of Five-0, so Danny could knock off at normal hours.

 

As the car pulls onto his street, Steve’s anxiousness revs up again and he feels his leg bouncing. He waves to the driver to stop a good two blocks before the house.

 

“You can leave me off here, man.  I appreciate it,” Steve announces, already reaching for his wallet.

 

As the car slows to a stop when the driver finally turns around.  “I wasn’t running the meter,” he explains.  When he moves his head, Steve can see a yellow ribbon pinned to the visor.  He gives a smile. “Your stop isn’t for another two blocks.”

 

“It’s okay, I can walk.” Steve doesn’t want a cab pulling in the driveway to give him away before he’s had a chance surprise them. When the cab driver gives him that look again, the slightly worried, tense look like Steve’s lost his marbles, Steve drops his hand away from the door handle.  “It’s the first time I’m seeing my family in eighteen months. I want to surprise them and I don’t want the car to give it away.”

 

The man breaks into a smile that engulfs his face.  He lets out a hearty laugh and turns back in his seat, putting the car in drive. “Stealth approach it is then!”

 

True to his words, a few houses down, the driver pulls the taxi to the side of the road and slows down to a crawl until they gently ease to a stop just before the driveway. He puts the car in park and slides out of the driver’s seat, moving quickly to the passenger side. He holds the door open for Steve and helps him pull his bags out before Steve can even protest.

 

“Thank you,” Steve offers his hand for the man to shake.  “I really appreciate the help.”

 

“Anything I can do for a fellow sailor,” the man answers, shaking Steve’s hand briefly. “Thank you for your service, sailor. I’m glad you’re home safe.” He snaps to attention and offers Steve a salute before he turns back to the cab, easing the door closed with barely a sound before he drives off.

 

Steve hoists his bags up to his good shoulder and makes his way down the driveway, excitement surging in his chest.  He sees the Camaro so he knows they are home, but he can’t see any movement through the open windows.  He makes it through the gate before he hears Danny’s voice followed by the distinctive _schick, schick_ that comes with scrubbing the grill grates. _Out back then_ , Steve realizes.

 

Steve eases quietly through the vegetation on the side of the house, easing his bag down at the corner of the house before he dares to peek around the corner. The sight feels like a kick in the chest, sending his breath skittering out of his lungs in a quick whoosh.

 

Grace is sitting at the table, textbooks and notebooks spread out in front of her. Her head is bobbing up and down slightly to the music playing through her ear buds.  She’s so beautiful, no longer a little girl, all tan skin and golden brown hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s dressed down in just a pair of running shorts and a tank top, tapping a pencil against her book with another stuck in her bun.  She’s so engrossed in her books and her music that she’s unaware of anything else happening around her.

 

Danny stands up from where he was leaning over the grill grates, scrub brush in hand. His hair is gleaming blonde in the sun, tousled and a bit windblown.  He’s standing there admiring his handy work, all weekend casual in jean shorts that are fraying at the hems and paint splattered, and a faded blue t-shirt. The shirt has definitely seen better days, Steve thinks, might have even been as dark as navy at one point, but now is sun-faded and wash-worn.  It isn’t until Danny turns that Steve can make out the faint outline of a trident on the upper left chest and realizes it’s one of his old SEAL shirts.

 

He watches as Danny runs a hand across his sweaty forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt behind as he makes his way over to Grace.  Danny pantomimes with his hands for a minute before he snags the chord of an ear bud and gives it a gentle tug so it falls out of Grace’s ear.

 

“Let’s go, kiddo. Clean up your books. They’re gonna be here soon and I need your help with dinner.”  Danny goes to nudge Grace with his dirty hand, but Grace dodges.

 

“Ew, dad. Gross.”  She giggles when Danny tries again, snapping her books closed and piling them together.

 

“Honestly, what kind of pre-teen are you?  Doing homework on a Friday night?”  Danny teases, wiping his hands on a towel and helping Grace gather her books. “It’s very rebellious of you, kiddo.”

 

Steve can’t take it anymore, can’t wait in silence anymore while his family is so close. He steps out from around the house, far enough so they can see him before he speaks.  “Be careful what you wish for, Danno.  She’ll be a rebellious teenager before you know it.”

 

At sound of his voice, they both freeze instantly, their heads snapping in his direction in unison. Both of their faces are perfect mirrors of each other when they see him, eyes wide and mouths dropping open in shock. Grace is the first to recover, her face breaking into a huge smile as she drops her books on the table with a _thud_.

 

“Kiwi!” she shrieks, launching herself across the deck towards his waiting arms. She lets out a half laugh, half sob as her arms wrap around his neck, pressing her face into his chest.

 

“Hiya Gracie,” he murmurs to the top of her head as he wraps his arms around her, holding her close. The use of her childhood nickname for him, his Hawaiian name, has him breaking into a smile. His heart is pounding in his chest but the ever-present ache that’s been there since he stepped on that plane eighteen months ago is slowly starting to fade.  He runs a hand up and down her back as he feels her start to cry, her hands fisting in his jacket tight.  “I’m here, sweetie. I’m home,” he murmurs against the top of her head and holds her tighter in his arms.

 

“Steve,” Danny’s voice is so soft and hesitant that Steve might have missed it if he wasn’t waiting for it.

 

Steve looks up to see Danny slowly making his way across the deck like he fears Steve is going to disappear any moment.  As soon as Danny’s within arms reach though, he’s reaching out, fingers tangling in the sleeve of Steve’s uniform like he’s trying to ground himself.  “Steve,” he sighs out, pressing his forehead to Steve’s shoulder.

 

Steve manages to unwrap one arm from around Grace so he can pull Danny close too, body starving for contact it’s been denied for so long.  He pulls Danny close to his side and presses a kiss to Danny’s forehead, lips lingering on his sun-warmed skin as he breathes through the knot of emotion threatening to choke him.  Danny’s fingers are pressing hard into the flesh in his reach, face pressed into Steve’s shoulder as he murmurs something over and over.  It isn’t until Steve leans closer that he hears what Danny is chanting.

 

“You’re alive, you’re okay.”

 

He chokes on a breath as he tangles his fingers in the back of Danny’s shirt. He presses closer to Danny until their’ faces are a breath apart, then hesitates, waiting for Danny to catch up. The moment their lips meet, everything goes quiet for Steve.  The anxiousness, the aches in his body, the emptiness in his chest, it all dissipates in that moment.  He’s not sure who moved first, but their lips are moving together, Danny’s hand against his back pressing them closer together.  And Grace giggling against his other side.

 

Steve regretfully pulls away from Danny when he realizes Grace is laughing at them. He leans back from the both of them enough so he can see their faces.  Grace is giggling, though there are a few tears on her cheeks.  Danny, though, looks a mess, physically and emotionally with his hair all disheveled and tears in his eyes.

 

“You’re home,” Danny chokes out and Steve can’t hold back a laugh.

 

“Surprise,” Steve smiles down at them.  He doesn’t realize he’s been crying too until Grace reaches up and brushes a few tears away. He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve missed you,” he tells them. This right here, with the two most important people in the world to him in his arms, is the feeling he’s been dreaming of.  He’s finally home.

 

It takes a few minutes for them to finally unwrap themselves, though touches linger and their eyes constantly search each other out.  Steve would have been completely content to stay wrapped up in their arms for the foreseeable future, but a timer going off in the kitchen had been what finally separated them.  Danny had kissed Steve apologetically as he moved inside.

 

“Dad thinks he’s mastered the art of marinating steaks.  He’s got this whole routine planned down to the minute and won’t deviate from it.” Grace gives Steve an exasperated look complete with eye roll, then grins. 

 

Steve laughs, keeping his arm around her shoulders as he retrieves his bags.  “Am I interrupting?  Did you guys have plans?”

 

Grace picks up his backpack and shakes her head.  “Nope, just normal Friday night dinner with Aunt Kono and Uncle Chin,” she explains as they make their way in the house, her textbooks forgotten on the table. “It’s our turn to cook this week.”

 

They find Danny in the kitchen seasoning the steaks, hands all aflutter. When he looks up, he smiles then falters.  He looks down at the number of steaks on the plate, and then frowns.  “I didn’t know you were gonna be-” Danny stops mid-sentence biting his lip.

 

“I’ll have chicken, Dad. Not really in a steak mood,” Grace pipes up, easing Steve’s backpack on to a chair.

 

“Do you want me to cancel?” Danny asks.  “I mean, it’s just Chin and Kono; they’ll understand.  You probably want to relax and-”

 

“It’s fine, Danny,” Steve reassures him, moving around the island in the kitchen to pull Danny into his arms.  “I’d love to see them. And I can eat chicken too, it’s not a big deal.”  He presses a kiss to Danny’s lips and grins.  “Now, we’ll get out of your hair.  Grace tells me you’ve got grilling down to a science.”

 

Danny barks out a laugh, face breaking into a sunny smile once again.  “Yeah, something that like.  Not all of us can throw meat on the grill and call it a masterpiece.”

 

Steve laughs, pulling Danny closer to his side.  He leans back against the counter and drinks in the feel of Danny’s weight against his side, the sound of Danny’s laugh and Grace’s giggles.  He’s sliding right back into their lives like he never left, like he hadn’t been gone, like he isn’t going to up and leave them again soon.

 

The sound of Danny’s phone buzzing on the counter behind them pulls Steve back to the moment. He watches as Danny turns, hand groping behind him for the phone, but not leaving the circle of Steve’s arms. Danny waggles the phone in front of Steve’s face, showing him the name displayed there with a wicked grin.

 

“Chin Ho,” Danny answers a little too brightly.  He lets out a laugh and shakes his head.  “Nah, everything’s fine, buddy.  What’s up?”

 

Grace hauls herself up on the island countertop across from them, ignoring Danny’s pointed look in her direction.  She grins at Steve and gives a one-shouldered shrug and mouths “rebel” at him while Danny listens to Chin on the phone.

 

“No, that’s fine. Do you need me to come in?”

 

Steve starts snickering when Grace starts dramatically flailing, silently mouthing words that look suspiciously like “Oh no, my steaks!”.  Danny elbows him playfully in the ribs, which steals Steve breath. He tries to play it off, dramatically stumbling to the side, keeping with Grace’s dramatic charades. Danny rolls his eyes, which does nothing to help the situation.  Steve ends up leaning against the counter next to Grace, one arm wrapped around his ribs as he struggles to breath through the hysterics.

 

“It’s not a problem, we understand.  And Chin, thanks.”

 

Danny hangs up the phone and turns to glare at them, hands perched on his hips like a mother scolding her kids.  “Really you two?,” he manages before his calm breaks and he’s laughing with them. He gives Grace’s knee a playful swat and shoos her off the counter as he passes, returning the steaks to the fridge.

 

“Chin and Kono caught a new case so they won’t make it tonight,” he informs them. “Which means we can hold off on dinner so you can go get a shower, you stink.”  Danny says to Steve giving his shoulder a playful shove. “Go.  Shower and shave.”

 

Steve grudgingly pushes himself off the counter.  He can’t help himself, though, when he brushes a kiss to Danny’s lips and Grace’s forehead as he passes them.  He aches to pull them close and hold them again, but if he does, he might not be able to let them go again.  He tries to tell himself he has time, all the time in the world, to hold them and love them.

 

He picks up his bags and moves through the house with blinders on.  He doesn’t stop to look at the new pictures hanging on the walls or the new coat of paint.  He moves up the stairs with single-minded purpose, get a shower and shave. He’ll have time for everything else later.

 

Stepping into their bedroom feels a bit like a Danny’s elbow to the ribs felt, all sharp pain and breathlessness.  Steve slowly steps into the room and feels like he never left. Everything is how he remembers it, Danny’s messy nightstand littered with random coins, a tangled charger cord for his phone, and a picture of the three of them.  The closet doors are thrown open with a heap of laundry spilling out on the floor and Danny’s perfectly pressed dress pants and shirts hanging in neat rows.  Their bed is sitting in the middle of the room bathed in the evening sunshine with the pillows a bit cockeyed and the blanket a little skewed, like Danny had made it in a hurry.

 

Steve drops his dusty duffle bag and backpack to the floor at the foot of the bed and starts to strip as he heads for the bathroom.  He eases his jacket off his shoulders and hisses when he sees the new spot of blood on his t-shirt underneath.  He carefully un-tucks the shirt and eases it over his head.  The bandage on his left shoulder is stained with blood, both old and new. Steve peels back the tape and stares at the wound in the mirror.  It’s relatively small compared to other wounds he’s received, but it’s aching fiercely. A small bit of blood seeps out of the stitches that he dabs away with a tissue.

 

Sighing, Steve wraps the soiled bandage up in a few tissues and tosses it in the garbage can. He’ll tell Danny and Grace about the wound, but he doesn’t want them finding a bloodied bandage before he has the chance. He ignores the mirror as he shucks his boots and BDUs.  He doesn’t need to see the livid bruising along his chest and back to know it’s there; he can feel them with every breath, with every movement.

 

It’s surreal stepping into their shower again.  Hot water piping out of the showerhead and gallons more where it came from. Actual privacy in the form of a locking door and a shower curtain.  Real, fluffy towels to dry off with, soap that won’t make his skin feel tight, and shampoo that smells like Danny.  For once, he doesn’t opt for the quick 3 minute Navy shower, swiping soap over the dirtiest, smelliest areas and calling it clean.  Instead, he lets the water pelt down over him, letting the warmth melt away the remaining tension as the water rinses away the dirt and grime of three days of travel.

 

He uses Danny’s shampoo and Danny’s soap since his bottles are long gone.  He scrubs his body once, watching the greyish suds washing down the drain before he does it again.  By the time he’s done, the water is starting to go tepid. He steps out and dries off with the extra towels from the closet.  As he steps in front of the mirror again, he realizes for the first time just how awful he looks.  His skin is pallid, dark circles ringing his eyes, and a scraggly full beard that makes him look haggard and worn.

 

Steve runs his hand over the beard and decides it needs to go right now.  He uses the electric razor to get rid of most of the hair, then Danny’s razor to clean the rest up.  Shaving the beard only reveals more bruising, a large purple splotch along his left jaw, but Steve feels better for it.  He feels more like himself with a clean-shaven face.

 

There isn’t much else he can do to improve his appearance.  Rest, actually sleeping in a bed for seven or eight solid hours a night, will take care of the shadows beneath his eyes.  Some time relaxing in the sun and healing will get rid of the bruises and return normal color to his skin.  Scrubbing a hand over his face, Steve puts toothpaste on Danny’s toothbrush and pops it in his mouth as he goes into investigate the clothing situation.

 

He moves around the bedroom with only a towel flapping around his waist, brushing his teeth and getting reacquainted with the room.  Opening his drawers on the dresser reveal a few pairs of shorts that all smell musty from disuse.  With a frown, Steve pulls out a pair of black gym shorts out of the stack and holds them up. They don’t smell too musty so he tosses them on the bed.  His t-shirt draw is almost empty, however.  He can see them piled up by the hamper and has a suspicious feeling that Danny’s been wearing them. Instead, he opens Danny’s drawer and pulls out one of his freshly laundered tees.  He snags a pair of clean boxers out of his bag on the way back to the bathroom and a small black bag.

 

He drops the bag on the counter while he rinses the toothpaste out of his mouth, then proceeds to unpack a small assortment of medical supplies and pill bottles. Steve leans closer to the mirror to inspect the wound on his shoulder, gently prodding the still healing flesh. He’s pleased that no more blood seeps through the stitches.  Satisfied that it’s healing, Steve tapes down a fresh bandage over the wound. He touches the cut on his forehead next, testing the tiny white steri-strips covering the fragile stitches there. There isn’t much he can do with that while the strips are holding.  He turns to eye the dark bruising on his back, glad to see the color is lightening up a bit since he’d last seen them. 

 

Packing up the rest of the medical supplies, Steve shakes a few pills out and swallows them with a handful of tap water from the sink; an antibiotic to kill the infection, a mild pain reliever to make breathing easier, and something that makes everything feel softer at the edges.  The last one he hates, but wished he’d had it to take on the plane to dampen the anxiousness jittering under his skin.  He only takes it now because the doc had only signed his release papers on the stipulation that Steve would take them regularly until he could be seen by another doc in Hawaii.  He’d been willing to do anything to get out of the base hospital at that point and back to his family so he’d agreed. 

 

With a sigh, Steve stashes the bottles in the bag and pushes it to the back of the counter. He gathers up his uniform and drops it near the hamper, then slides into Danny’s clothes with a bit of relief.

 

By the time he makes it back downstairs, the pills have started to kick in leaving Steve loose-limbed and fuzzy.  He’s surprised to find that almost an hour has passed.  While he had initially been excited about seeing Chin and Kono, Steve is grateful now to have Danny and Grace all to himself tonight.  He finds them in the kitchen talking low between themselves as they prepare a salad together.

 

“-he okay, Danno?” Grace is asking, fingers knotting in the dishtowel she’d been wiping her hands on.

 

“I’m okay, kiddo,” Steve answers before Danny can.  He’s not sure he wants to hear Danny’s answer, doesn’t want to know how broken he looks to everyone else.

 

They both startle, looking up at him as he comes into the kitchen.  Steve smiles at them as he leans on the counter across from them. Wearing just the t-shirt now, Steve’s sure they can make out the outline of the bandage on his shoulder. He knows he’s right when Danny’s eyes linger on his chest a moment too long before meeting his eyes again, a small frown crinkling his brow.

 

“My team was attacked, most of us got hurt.  Mostly minor stuff. We were due for leave soon anyway, so as soon as we were cleared from the hospital, we came home.”

 

“And you?” Danny asks, stepping up to Steve and putting his hand on Steve’s chest, fingers close to the edge of the bandage.  “How badly were you hurt?”

 

“I’m okay,” Steve answers quietly, eyes split between Danny and Grace.  “I hurt my shoulder, have some bruising.  I’m okay, Grace.”  He reassures her when her eyes start to go watery.

 

She nods and wipes her eyes, then moves over to wrap her arms around his waist. Steve holds her close with one arm as he looks at Danny, hoping to reassure him too.  Danny nods, giving his chest a pat before he steps back.

 

“Okay,” he whispers, hand swiping at his face as he turns back to the salad. “Let’s get dinner started, yeah? I’m famished. Do you wanna man the grill with Grace? I can finish up in here.”

 

Steve takes the plate of steaks from the fridge and heads out to the back deck followed by Grace. She sits at the table, fingers fiddling with a discarded pencil.  She doesn’t say anything, but Steve can feel her eyes on his back as he puts the steaks on the grill.

 

“What’s up, Gracie?” he asks, closing the lid on the grill and wiping his hands on a towel.

 

Grace just shrugs, but her face pinches a little more.  She’s biting her lip and Steve knows she is thinking hard about something. He’s seen that look on Danny’s face countless times.  Steve comes to stand in front of her, tugging her to her feet and pulling her close again. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, pressing his face to the top of her head. He feels the moment she lets go, when the tension breaks and she wraps her arms around his waist hesitantly.

 

“I’m okay, Gracie,” he whispers to her and feels her arms tighten around him, until her fingers are knotted in the back of his shirt.  He feels her back shudder and tries hard to keep his emotions in check.

 

After a moment, Grace pulls back slightly, wiping at the silent tears dripping down her cheeks. Steve cups her face in his hands and gives her a kiss on the forehead.  She smiles up at him and Steve can see that this time she is okay.

 

“I’m glad your home, dad.”

 

“Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

 

They turn their attention to the grill, making sure to grill each steak perfectly. Danny comes out a few minutes later armed with plates and silverware.  Grace leaves her spot at Steve’s side to finish clearing her books off the table. Danny sidles up to Steve, a wicked grin on his face.

 

“That shirt’s a little short, don’t ya think?”  Danny tugs at the hem of Steve’s borrow t-shirt which is riding up every time he moves, hovering at the waistband of his shorts and giving peaks of the skin beneath.

 

“Had to make do with what was available.  Seems someone has been stealing my shirts,” Steve murmurs against Danny’s lips. Steve turns into Danny, settling his hands on Danny’s hips as Danny’s hand slips underneath the shirt, splaying across the skin of his lower back.  Steve sighs appreciatively as he kisses Danny deeper, pushing closer to him. Steve could stay wrapped up like this all night, but they separate when Grace clears her throat.

 

“Uh, dads? I’m still here, ya know.”

 

Steve laughs against Danny’s lips as he gives him another chaste kiss before pulling away. He grins at Danny though, a promise of something more in his eyes.  Danny just winks back as he moves to the table to help Grace.

 

“Sorry, did we scar you for life kiddo?” Danny asks, helping Grace set the table.

 

“No more than usual,” she sighs.  When Steve and Danny just grin at each other, she rolls her eyes in mock annoyance.

 

Dinner is a simple affair, Steve’s first taste of normal in eighteen months. They sit around the table and talk, eating and drinking well after the sun has started to set. They catch Steve up on everything; give him highlights of the cases Five-0 has worked, play by plays of Grace best softball games, and of Danny’s attempts to conquer surfing. Steve listens more than he talks and that’s okay, sitting there basking in the last warm light of the day, nursing a beer, and listening to the laughter of his family.

 

It’s only when his shoulder starts aching again and his ribs protest the slouch he’s taken up in the deck chair that he forces himself to move.  He waves off the offered help as he cleans up the dishes and makes his way into the kitchen.  He drops the dishes in the sink and leans against the counter.

 

He’s got his head down, trying to breath through the aches when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns to find Danny standing there with a few more dishes in his hands and a worried look on his face. Steve tries to give him a smile, but Danny doesn’t look all that convinced by it.  Danny quietly sets the dishes down on the counter and quietly places a hand on Steve’s back.

 

“Everything okay?” he questions, watching Steve’s movements carefully.

 

Steve stands up and nods, once again trying for a smile that still doesn’t erase the worried look off Danny’s face.  “Yeah, I’m okay,” he breaths, leaning down to kiss Danny on the cheek.  “Just more tired than I realized.”

 

Danny nods then, creases of worry easing from his face.  He rubs his hand up Steve’s back with a small smile.  “The dishes can wait until tomorrow.  Let’s get ready for bed.”

 

Despite how achy and exhausted his body feels, Steve can’t fall asleep right away. He moves with Danny through the house like old times, locking the doors and setting the alarm. They kiss Grace good night at the top of the stairs as they split off to their bedrooms, moving nearly silently through their nightly routine.

 

Steve lays down in bed with the warm weight of Danny pressed into his side and the sound of the waves drifting in through the open balcony windows.  He closes his eyes and tries to slow his mind down, focusing on the sound of the waves and Danny’s gentle breaths as he falls fast asleep. Instead of relaxed, however, Steve feels trapped, held down by a body too worn out to follow his commands and the sleep-heavy weight of Danny’s arm across his chest. The ocean waves fade away to the distinct _thump, thump, thump_ of chopper blades. 

 

_‘Commander, I need you to keep still,’ a voice calls out and Steve tries to move his head to find the voice but he can’t move. His entire body is strapped down tight._

_There’s an agonizing pain in his shoulder spreading a fire in his chest.  He tries to suck in a breath but can’t manage it.  It feels like a vice has clamped down around his throat, making it impossible to breath. He tries to cough, to clear his throat and only ends up making it worse._

_“Shit, it must’ve nicked an artery. He’s bleeding out. What’s our ETA?” the voice calls out, but Steve doesn’t hear a response.  “Make it faster, he doesn’t have that long.”_

_The pain in his shoulder grows exponentially; so sharp and sudden that he can’t help his reaction, body jerking against the straps holding him down.  He tries to scream but there is no breath in his lungs.  The voice in his ear is yelling his name over and over, but Steve can’t hold on anymore as the world slips away from him._

Steve sucks in a deep breath as his eyes focus back on the bedroom ceiling.  His chest is heaving with each breath and it takes quite a bit of effort to slow it down again.  His body is covered in a cold sweat that is sending shivers up his spine. He needs to get up, to move; he can’t be trapped flat on his back right now until the last vestiges of the memory passes. 

 

Danny barely moves when Steve slides out from under his arm.  Danny just grumbles into the pillow and turns to the other side of the bed, fast asleep again in seconds.  Steve moves quietly through the room, relying on memory rather than his sight to get him through the darkened room. 

 

Once in side the bathroom, Steve flips on the light and leans heavily against the sink, trying to breath.  He turns on the taps and splashes some cold water over his face and focuses his attention on the way it swirls down the drain.  After a minute, he feels like he can breath again, the pain in his shoulder fading back to the dull roar he has grown used to instead of the feeling like someone is tearing his flesh apart.

 

With a shaking hand, Steve unzips the small black bag on the sink and digs around until he pulls out the pill bottles.  He stares at them for a minute, debating with himself.  Finally, he unscrews the caps and shakes out a pain pill and the anti-anxiety pill. Before he can think about it, Steve swallows them with a handful of water and puts the bottles back in the bag.

 

He spends the rest of the night drifting in and out of artificially induced sleep, muscles lax and mind fuzzy.  He doesn’t dream, at least not that he remembers, and wakes just before dawn with Danny slotted against his side snoring away.  He stretches his muscles slowly and stares at the ceiling listening to the waves, reminding himself that he is home and that there is time.  By the time he’s stretched out most of his muscles, he’s centered enough to pull himself out of the bed and move away from Danny long enough for a swim.

 

********

 

The weekend whisks by in a flurry of activity.  Driving Grace to softball practice and stopping at the store to pick up items for a project, grocery shopping and laundry and driving Grace anywhere and everywhere just to spend time with her.  Steve didn’t realize how hectic a twelve-year-old girl’s schedule could be, but now he knows. 

 

By the time Sunday night rolls around, Steve is lounging in the hammock in the backyard watching Grace put the finishing details on her poster and Danny paying bills and catching up on emails.  He glances over the top of the laptop at Steve and smiles before he goes back to pecking away at the keyboard.  Grace squints at the poster then holds it up for inspection.

 

“What do you think, Kiwi?  Do I need more pictures?”

 

Grace’s use of her childhood nickname for him, and her reversion back to Danno instead of Dad, fills his chest with warmth.  He feels his face automatically split into a grin at the use of the name. He glances at the poster then shakes his head.

 

“Nope, I think you’ve got the perfect ratio of pictures and facts, kiddo.”

 

“Danno?” Grace spins around to face Danny, holding the poster up in front of her, her head just visible above the poster board.

 

“Kiwi’s right. I think you’re good,” Danny remarks after serious contemplation.

 

Grace grins and pumps her hand in triumph.  “Then can I go watch a movie?”

 

“Is the rest of your homework done?”  Danny asks, eyeing her with a stern expression.

 

“I thought you wanted her to be a rebel, Danno?” Steve pushes himself up from the hammock and comes to stand beside Grace, helping her clean up the mess from her project.

 

“Only on Friday nights. By Sunday, she’s back to being an angel.” Danny glares when a wad of paper “accidently slips” from Steve’s hands, hitting Danny in the forehead before landing on the keyboard.

 

Grace stifles her laughter but ends up snorting instead.  When Danny’s glare turns towards her, she smiles sweetly. “All my homework’s done, Danno. Please?”  She bats her eyes innocently and Danny throws his hands up in the air.

 

“I quit with you two. Go!  Leave me in peace to finish the bills.”

 

Grace races into the house, arms full of art supplies.  Steve comes around the table and wraps his arms around Danny’s shoulders. He briefly glances at the screen before he presses a kiss to Danny’s temple.  “You know, once your homework is done …”

 

A laugh rumbles out of Danny’s chest.  He leans his head back and kisses the exposed skin of Steve’s neck.  “I’ll never be finished if you don’t quit interrupting me,” Danny whispers.  “Go watch the movie with Grace.  I’ll be in soon.”

 

That night, Steve falls into an exhausted sleep curled around Danny, every inch of his bare skin pressed to Danny.  It’s then he finally feels like he’s home and safe.

 

***********

 

Tuesday morning Steve drops Grace off at school with her poster, kissing her forehead before she slides out of the truck.  She waves to him from the sidewalk and texts him ten minutes later with a reminder that she has softball practice until 5pm.  Steve drives through the busy streets of Honolulu debating what kind of lunch to surprise Danny with in a few hours.  He is reaching for his phone with his right hand when the truck starts to swerve off the road. Jerking the wheel to get the truck back on to the road, Steve glances at his left hand locked around the steering wheel. It is then he realizes he can’t feel it, can’t feel the steering wheel in his hand, and can’t make his hand move.

 

Steve pulls the truck over to the side of the road and presses his forehead to the steering wheel, trying to breath through the sudden panic seizing his chest. _No, this can’t be happening_ , he thinks.  He uses his right hand to pry his left hand from the steering wheel and tries desperately to get it to move, to grasp on to something, but it is unresponsive.  Tears spring to his eyes and he curls over the limb.

 

He gropes around on the seat next to him and pulls his phone out.  Through a haze of panicked tears, he dials a number and listens as it rang in his ear.

 

“Hi, this is Commander Steven McGarrett.  I’m scheduled to see Dr. Allen next week.  I was wondering if it was possible for me to see her today.”  Steve swallows thickly and sits up in the seat. “Yeah, it’s worse. Okay, I’ll be there soon. Thank you.”

 

He manages to hang up the phone and gather himself enough to start driving once again. He turns back from the direction he’d come, weaving through the busy traffic until he is at the doctor’s office.

 

By the time he makes it to the office, he can feel small tingles in the tips of his fingers. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the truck, completely forgetting about lunch as he forces himself to march through the doors in front of him.

 

Two hours later, he is sitting at the dining room table staring at the packet of information the doctor had given him and the appointment list for tests throughout the week.  He stares at his left hand, now fully cooperative, and forces it to make a fist just to be sure. He can still hear the doctor’s words ringing in his ears. 

 

“We’ll do some test and figure this out, Commander.”

 

************

 

Grace is sitting in the backseat of the truck, fingers tapping away on her phone and cracking her gum.  Danny is sitting next to him, talking about the interrogation they’d done today with what Danny dubbed as “the world’s stupidest criminal” as they drive home from Grace’s softball game.  Steve is listening to the story in amusement, nodding his head along.  It is a perfectly normal drive until suddenly it isn’t.

 

Steve barely notices when the song changes on the radio, too wrapped up in Danny’s story. It isn’t until Grace starts humming the tune from the backseat that he becomes aware of it. Prickling starts at the base of his spine, slowly crawling it’s way upward.  Steve takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on the steering wheel as snippets of another time, another conversation, war for his attention with the present.

 

“And then I said to him…”

 

_‘What the hell are you humming, Bunny?’ Montoya whispers as they slowly drive through the streets of the town._

_‘Come on, everyone knows the song. It’s on the radio all the time. You know it, Commander, right? It goes …’_

Grace starts singing the words louder, head bopping to the music.  Danny nudges him in the shoulder as he turns in his seat to watch her dance.

 

_Montoya nudges him.  “Can you order him to shut up?” he asks in amusement._

_Steve shakes his head and is about to tell him to shut up when he sees something off to the right of them. A piece of cloth flapping in the slight wind.  Steve slows the Humvee, but doesn’t stop.  He know about the traps and ambushes waiting for troops that stop along these roads._

_He notices a bag on the side of the road that he maneuvers around, but its not sitting right with him. Something is wrong about this place; he can feel it.  Steve is raising his hand to signal a warning to his team when …_

Grace cracks her gum with a loud _POP!_

 

Steve jerks in the seat, jerking the truck over to the shoulder of the highway and slamming on the brakes.

 

_POP!_

 

_It’s the only indication he has that something is wrong before all hell breaks loose.  A blinding pain pierces his chest.  He jerks in the seat loosing control of the Humvee as drives off the road. He grits his teeth and tries to correct it but it’s too late.  There’s a loud explosion and suddenly he’s ripped from the vehicle, landing on the ground with a thud, head cracking against the dirt packed road. It feels like the air is sucked from his lungs and everything dims out of focus for a moment._

_In the distance he can hear more pop pop pops and a voice yelling his name._

“Steve!”

 

Steve jerks his head up from where it was resting on the steering wheel and looks over to see Danny, unbuckled from the seat and looking terrified as he hovers a few feet away.  _Danny and Grace_ , he tells himself.  He’s home.  He’s home. He tries to take a deep breath but the remembered agony in his shoulder is making it impossible. The car feels too confined, too stuffy. He needs to get out and get some air.

 

He fumbles with the door handle and stumbles out the drive’s side of the truck, leaning against the side of it for a minute to steady himself.  He pushes away and walks a few feet away, pacing a short circuit on the side of the highway as he tries to get his breathing back under control. They images are still coming rapid fire and he is helpless to stop them.

 

_‘Steve!’_

_Hands are grabbing at him and pulling him across the ground until he’s behind the cover of another Humvee._

_‘Sniper,’ he croaks out, feeling blood pulsing across his chest and neck._

_‘Shut up, McGarrett,’ Montoya barks as he rips open Steve’s vest and jacket.  ‘Shit shit shit.  Gimme that kit now!’_

_More hands appear in his line of sight passing clean gauze to bloodied hands.  The pressure on his shoulder increases and he cries out, arching off the ground to get away from the hands.  He’s held down and the pressure increased once again._

_‘Sorry buddy, but you’ll thank me when you’re not bleeding out.’_

_He can hear a voice call for backup and for a medevac.  He tries to look around and catches a glimpse of Bunny lying a few feet from him, leg blown clear from his body.  His team is returning fire, holed up behind the burning hull of Steve’s Humvee and the one driving behind them, fighting off the ambush Steve was stupid enough to drive them right into. He tries to push himself up, but there are hands forcing him down as much as the agony tearing through his body._

_‘Stay the fuck still, McGarrett. Goddamn it.’_

_He looks up to see Montoya’s worried face above him._

_‘You with me?  You’re hurt pretty bad, Steve.  Don’t move.  We’ve got ya covered. Choppers two minutes out.’_

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.  You’re safe.”

 

Steve opens his eyes and realizes he’s doubled over on the side of the highway. There’s a hand on his back and Danny’s voice murmuring in his ear.  Steve takes a deep breath and feels light-headed; his chest is on fire like he’s been starving for oxygen.  He tries to stand up and Danny’s hands tighten their hold on his shoulders.

 

“Easy, easy. Just breath for a minute, all right?”

 

Steve nods his head and let’s Danny keep him steady.  When he opens his eyes again, he sees Danny standing in front of him, eyes frantic, not matching the calm in his voice.  Over Danny’s shoulder, Steve can see Grace standing at the back of the truck, arms wrapped around herself as she watches them.

 

“You back with me now, Steve?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve croaks out, voice sounding wrecked and hoarse.  He swallows roughly and rubs a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat beading on his forehead.  “Yeah, I’m back. Sorry.”

 

“Just take a breath, okay?  Let’s get you back to the truck, yeah?”

 

Steve nods and lets Danny guide him to the passenger side of the truck.  As they get close, Grace moves to open the door for them. Steve climbs in wordlessly and let’s Danny hand him the seat belt before he closes the door. He watches in the side mirror as Danny pulls Grace into his arms and presses her face to his chest for a minute. When she pulls back, he wipes the tears from her cheeks and gives her a quick kiss on the forehead. Guilt curls around his heart as he realizes what he just put them through and wonders if getting medical clearance is the biggest hurdle he has to overcome.

 

***********

 

Danny and Grace are quiet the rest of the night, moving through the house on eggshells. He’s not sure if they don’t want to spook him or if they are too jumpy themselves to do much more then be wrapped up in their own heads.  His trip down memory lane and his subsequent panic attack have left him exhausted and sore so he takes a pain pill and the anti-anxiety meds and crashes on the couch after dinner.

 

It doesn’t take long for Danny to migrate there as well.  He hasn’t been far from Steve’s side since it happened, like he’s worried Steve’s going to shatter at any moment and he needs to be there to sweep the pieces back into place.  He settles into the crook of Steve’s arm and turns on the baseball game, their feet kicked up side by side on the coffee table.  It would seem like any other night except for the fact that Danny is a bit too tense.

 

An hour later, Grace comes down and settles on the other side of Steve, kicking her feet up on the arm of the couch as she leans against Steve’s side.  She doesn’t say anything, but the way she gives him a quick hug makes him think that they are okay, that he didn’t scar her too badly with his panic attack.

 

“It was an ambush,” he says when the game goes to another commercial.  For a minute he wonders if this is a terrible idea, telling Danny and Grace the details of the attack, if it’ll scare them too much. But then he remembers Danny’s frantic eyes and Grace’s hunched posture and realizes he’s only going to keep hurting them until they know.

 

“My team was pushing through an area that had recently been bombed.  We’d been warned about possible traps and ambushes, but we were only passing through so we weren’t too worried about it. We were staying on the main road.”

 

Steve takes a deep breath, eyes fixed on the wall above the TV as he speaks. If he looks at Danny or Grace, he’s afraid he’ll loose his nerve.

 

“I thought I saw something in one of the alleys so I slowed our Humvee down.  Turns out it was a trap.  They had snipers on the rooftops.  I got hit in the chest and drove the Humvee off the road, over an IED.”

 

Steve rubs his hand over his aching shoulder, remembering the bright red of his blood on Montoya’s tan skin.

 

“Two of my guys in the back of the Humvee were killed, I was thrown clear by the explosion. My team came after me, pulling me back behind the trucks for cover while they fought off the ambush. I was hurt pretty bad, was bleeding out so they they had to call for a medevac and back up. We got out, but most of the team had been injured in the fight.  They had to chopper me out and back to base.  I went through surgery and came out okay.  We thought I’d been lucky that the bullet hadn’t done more damage.”

 

Steve flexes his cooperative left hand and holds it out in front of him.  He can still control it, but his fingers are getting tingly. He knows if he pinched the flesh right now, he wouldn’t feel it.

 

“My left hand goes numb sometimes.  It happened twice at the base hospital.  They thought I might need to give the nerves some time to heal.  That’s why I’m home; I’m on medical leave until the doctor clears me.”

 

Danny grips his right hand tightly and when Steve turns to look at him, he sees worry in Danny’s eyes.  “Has it happened again? Your hand going numb?”

 

“A few days ago, when I missed our lunch date.  I was at the doctor’s office.  I’ve been going for tests all week.  I should know soon if they think the damage is permanent.”  Steve answers solemnly.  He rests his forehead on Danny’s shoulder.

 

“What if it’s really damaged?”  Grace’s voice breaks the sudden hush over the room.  Steve turns to look at her, seeing the fear in her eyes.

 

“There are surgeries I could have to try to correct it, but it would mean my career in the Navy is over,” he tells her honestly.  It’s been something that has been weighing heavily on his heart, the thought of leaving the Navy.

 

“Well, whatever the doctor says, we’ll get through it.  Right?” Danny interlaces his fingers with Steve’s and gives his hand a squeeze.

 

“Right.” Steve smiles, but even he can feel how forced it is. 

 

**********

 

Steve’s elbow deep in the Marquis’s engine when his cell phone rings.  For a minute he thinks it might be Danny checking in like he does every day or Grace asking him to run her softball gear to the school because she forgot it.  She’s done that twice already this week, but Steve suspects it’s her excuse to see him during the day as well.  Grabbing the nearest rag, Steve quickly wipes most of the grease from his fingers and answers the call without looking.

 

“Commander McGarrett, it’s Dr. Allen.  We have your test results in.  Are you available this afternoon to come in and discuss them?”

 

Steve feels his heart seize up in his chest.  He agrees and set up an appointment in two hours and hangs up feeling a bit numb. His fingers start dialing Danny’s number before he remembers that Danny is in court all day.  He hangs up and sends a quick text instead.

 

_Have an appointment this afternoon. Can you get Grace from practice? See you for dinner._

**********

 

When Steve pulls into the driveway, he sees Danny’s Camaro already there.  He parks next to it and sits in the driver’s seat for a minute, enjoying this last moment of peace.  He opens the front door and immediately hears Grace’s chatter coming from the kitchen.

 

When he pokes his head in the door, he sees her sitting on the counter in her softball pants and a tank top, hair swishing around her head in a ponytail as she talks. Danny is leaning against the counter, nodding along to her story as he pulls the Chinese food out of the bags on the counter.  Grace sees him first, her face lighting up as she jumps off the counter.

 

“Kiwi! I scored a homerun at practice today. A real homerun that went right over the fence!”

 

“And nearly beamed the principal’s car,” Danny comments dryly, but he’s smiling proudly.

 

“That’s amazing kiddo,” Steve gives her a high-five before he pulls her into a hug.

 

When he pulls back, he moves over to Danny and wraps his arms around Danny’s waist. He only means for it to be a brief hug, but once Danny’s in his arms, Steve finds that he can’t let go. Not because he hand won’t cooperate, but because he doesn’t want to ever move.

 

“You okay, babe?” Danny questions. He runs a hand up Steve’s arms, but when Steve doesn’t move, he cranes his neck to get a better look at Steve’s face. “Babe?”

 

“I went to the doctor’s today,” he says quietly.

 

Instantly, Grace stops rummaging for silverware and Danny drops the container of rice back to the counter.  Danny turns himself around in the circle of Steve’s arms, his hands coming to rest on Steve’s chest.

 

“The nerves are damaged,” Steve says, keeping his eyes closed because he doesn’t want to see the mix of emotions on Danny’s face, the relief warring with worry. The same emotions Steve’s been struggling with since the doctor broke the news.  “I’m not going back.  I’m being discharged from active duty.”

 

“Oh Steve,” Danny whispers, pulling Steve’s head down to rest on his shoulder. He holds Steve tight, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other rubs up and down Steve’s shuddering back. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

 

In the circle of Danny’s arms, it’s safe to break down.  Steve can feel the tears slip free and he doesn’t know if he’s mourning the loss of his career or if he’s relieved that he doesn’t have to leave his family again. He feels guilty and weak, but it also feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest.

 

He feels Grace come up and wrap her arms around him too.  He hugs her to his side with one arm and breathes deep.  He’ll be okay, he knows.  He has the two most important people in the world to him by his side; he can make it through anything.

 

“She wants me to see a therapist, for the panic attacks and to cope with the news,” Steve murmurs, finally finding the energy to pick his head up off Danny’s shoulder.

 

He shouldn’t be surprised when Danny brings a hand up and gently wipes away the tears on his face and smiles reassuringly at him.  He just leans in and brushes his lips against Steve’s.  “That sounds like a good idea,” he admits. “Grace and I can go too. We all have to adjust. But we’ll get through it. I promise you, Steve, we’ll get through it.”

 

Steve nods and manages a small smile.  For the first time in a long time, Steve feels completely safe and at home, right there in Danny and Grace’s arms.  He’s fought and sacrificed a lot over the years for God and country, now it’s time for him to spend his efforts on his family.

 

* * *

 

Thank you for reading.  You can view the artwork [HERE](http://ncisvu-lj.livejournal.com/51196.html).

 


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